


realization

by Omeganixtra



Series: Destiny Fictober 2019 [17]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Fictober 2019, It Finally Happens, Realizations of Love, cayde finally realizes that he is in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-29 06:34:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21135191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omeganixtra/pseuds/Omeganixtra
Summary: “I’m in love,” he bleats out as he sits on the outer side of the Tower’s railing, legs dangling over the edge and his Ghost nestled in the crook of his neck. “Holyshit.”





	realization

**Author's Note:**

> day 17: "There is just something about them/her/him.”

It’s a hot summer day when Cayde realizes it. He also nearly has a mental breakdown, but that is beside the point.

But he realizes it, realizes that this has actually been a thing for a while now, and just… whoa—if that ain’t an earthshattering revelation to get in the middle of the afternoon, then he has no fucking idea what is.

“I’m in love,” he bleats out as he sits on the outer side of the Tower’s railing, legs dangling over the edge and his Ghost nestled in the crook of his neck. “Holy _shit_.”

“_Really_?” Sundance sounds _far_ too amused for his liking. “Are you sure?”

Cayde swats her off his shoulder and grumbles when she retaliates with a stinging shot of electricity to his fingers.

“Of fuckin’ course I’m sure, ‘Dance,” he snorts and whips his stinging fingers through the air. “I wouldn’t lie to you ‘bout that.”

“Hmm, promises, promises.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

He keeps sitting there on the outside of the railing, waving at the occasional Guardians wandering by. It’s not very far from the hangar and if he bends a little creatively, he can see her down there.

His Guardian. Meera.

Traveler above, even from a distance he picks her out almost immediately, despite the fact that she is elbow-up in machine oil and dressed like the rest of Amanda’s little ducklings down there.

“Why her?”

“There’s just… there is just _something_ about her, I suppose,” he mumbles and rests his chin in the palm of his hand.

“Must be if you’re gawking at an oil-covered Guardian…”

“I said, shut it!”


End file.
